


The Magic of You

by Quickspinner



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Blood, Blood and Injury, Endgame Lukanette, F/M, Fantasy AU, Mage Luka, Mutual Pining, Nagamarinette, Naginette, implied sexual content in ch 2, not for that long though I'm impatient
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28494633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: Wandering the forest in search of a place with strong magical energy, Luka finds exactly what he needs--only someone else claims this particular spot, and she's rather shy. When Luka finally does meet her face to face, well...he's got a problem.Marinette is content in her own little territory, until a human minstrel-mage wanders into it. She's not especially happy about it at first, but the more she watches him, the more she thinks maybe he's not that bad.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	The Magic of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bloody_no_Kissu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_no_Kissu/gifts).



> Gift fic for our resident naga-lover Bloody-no-Kissu! I hope you enjoy the monstrosity this has become! <3

It was, at least, a lovely day for a walk, Luka thought as he wandered through the forest. He touched the pouch at his belt absently, though in this quiet part of the forest he could hear the crystals within clicking softly together as he walked, so he knew he hadn’t lost it. It was a habit, born of one too many incidents where he had to backtrack to find where it had slipped from his belt. 

He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the strap of his instrument, and kept walking, listening as he went. It shouldn’t be too hard to find what he needed here; it was early summer, and the growing things were full of life. Luka was picky, though; it was part of what made his wares so highly sought. He’d know when he found the right place, and so he listened, as he walked, and let his intuition lead him. 

A little before noon, he reached a clearing through the trees—more than a clearing, a wide meadow, ringed by the forest trees but covered in grass and flowers. There was a gap in the trees on one side, and a cliff edge beyond where the land dropped away sharply, as if there had been a landslide here sometime in the distant past. Luka emerged into the meadow slowly, head cocked slightly as he listened. 

The earth was strong here, and it was a beautiful place even just on aesthetic level, dotted with flowers in clumps and groups—almost like a garden. Perhaps he had stumbled on the sanctuary of some magical creature of the forest? If so, he was grateful for their work. It was lovely.

It was dotted with large rocks, but one in particular drew him. It was largely flat, but slanted up on one side, and unusually smooth. Luka ran his hand over it thoughtfully. For a rock, it looked like it would make a comfortable seat, and reminded him in fact of the one-armed sofas he sometimes saw in ladies’ parlors. It didn’t look man-made, and didn’t have the feeling of a fey circle, but...Luka looked around the meadow again, and shrugged. Perhaps this was a tended place, but there was no one here now, and he saw none of the markers of ownership that he recognized. 

Well, he could protect himself well enough if someone returned and took offense. Right now, this was perfect for his purposes. He took his gittern from his back and set it down carefully. Then he knelt and drew a crystal from his pouch. He put it down in the moss, making sure it had contact with the earth beneath, and then reclined on the rock, stretching his legs along the length and leaning back against the raised side. Not exactly a lady’s divan, but certainly a more comfortable seat than he often found.

Luka reached and picked up his gittern from where he had set it, and strummed the strings softly, adjusting the tuning. When he was satisfied, he silenced the strings, and closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing, taking in the sounds around him, and centering himself in the rock beneath him and the earth beneath that. 

Then he began to play. First, the key tune that helped him fall into trance, and then, as the song of the earth swelled in his soul, he blended his tune with it. It was beautiful here, in this place, full of creation power. He played, separating the tones, the _energies_ , he needed from the larger song, and drawing them up into the crystal resting on the ground, where they swirled lazily, unbothered by their captivity. Good. This place was good, its energies healthy and content, and willing to be coaxed into his keeping. The earth gave up its surplus without complaint, and he smiled. 

He continued playing, even after the crystal was fully charged, just for the sheer joy of it, and the beauty of the earth’s song in this place. 

Gradually, Luka became aware that he was no longer alone, and he opened his eyes. The meadow still seemed empty and still, but there was a new note in the song, and he tilted his head slightly as he listened to it, played alongside it for a time. It clearly belonged here; it meshed seamlessly with the song of this place, and added a richness to the song that Luka hadn’t realized was missing. It was lovely, and it didn’t seem hostile, only...curious. Possibly a little annoyed, a little afraid, but mostly intrigued. Perhaps this was its place, then, where he was intruding. 

“I mean you no harm,” Luka spoke softly, still playing. “It’s only that this place was so lovely, I had to stop here.” 

There was no answer, though surprise trilled at the edges of the song, tainted with a jangle of alarm, and...embarrassment?” That amused him and the corners of his mouth tilted up a little further. 

“You’re welcome to join me, or just stay and listen if you like,” Luka suggested, and closed his eyes again. He fell back into the earth’s song, resisting the temptation to probe the new melody any further. Whatever creature it belonged to, they were intelligent and emotionally aware, so he would respect their privacy unless he sensed malevolent intent. 

It was a lovely melody, though. Perhaps, if the being it belonged to lived nearby, one day they would show themselves, and he could learn more of them. For now, though, he’d best keep his mind to his work. He paused his playing long enough to slip a handful of crystals from his pouch, and lined them up on the ground below his rock seat. Then he sat back, and began to play again, beginning the slow process of charging the crystals. 

* * *

Marinette had been annoyed at first at finding her territory invaded and even her favorite sunning stone occupied, but the music the human mage made was so beautiful, that her frustration was short-lived. She understood the basics of human magic, but she’d never seen anyone use music to channel it before. She wasn’t upset when he returned a few days later, and came regularly every few days after that. Marinette stayed out of sight, hiding her nature from him, but he always seemed to know she was there, so she didn’t bother with much else in the way of stealth. He always sensed her, but never sought her out. He sometimes spoke to her, inviting her indirectly to show herself to him, but Marinette neither spoke nor ventured out of the shelter of the trees. She didn’t want to frighten him away, and she didn’t want to bring danger on herself. He was human, and a mage, and though she sensed no ill intent from him, it was only prudent to take precautions. 

He always brought a pouch full of crystals of different kinds. Marinette knew that human mages used crystals charged with nature magic to boost their own power, and she could see, or rather... _sense_ , with an unconscious awareness intrinsic to her own magical nature, that he was pulling earth power from her meadow into the crystals. At first she couldn’t imagine why he needed so many, but eventually it occurred to her that this was perhaps how he made his living. That thought was distasteful at first, but he was so careful in the way he siphoned the power of her meadow, so attentive to the balance and never taking too much at once, that she began to reconsider. Better a man like this one, skilled and careful, should take the power and sell it, than clumsy, inattentive, careless mages tear it thoughtlessly from the earth. And he must, after all, find means to live somehow—Marinette herself made trade goods to secure the things she couldn’t make or hunt on her own—and there were many worse professions he could have chosen. 

Marinette had no magic beyond the inherent abilities of her kind, which were largely passive, and she had no use for the energy he took, which replenished itself before his next visit anyway, so she didn’t mind what some creatures might have seen as theft. He was polite and respectful, and paid her in music...and as she became accustomed to his presence, she began to feel he paid her in company as well. She wasn’t sure how someone she had never spoken to could feel like a friend, but she began to realize that her once-perfect meadow felt lonely when he didn’t come. The days when she found a warm, sunny spot in the trees and worked on her embroidery or jewelry while listening to his music began to be be dearer to her than the days when she lounged on her sunning rock in peaceful solitude, staring idly over her empty domain. She hadn’t thought she was bothered by her largely solitary life, being in the stage of her life where it was natural for her to distance herself from the family den, but his presence became welcome as it became familiar. 

As time passed she drew nearer, even slithering up a tree one day to watch him from the branches. She couldn’t venture out too far without being seen—or breaking the branch she rested on—but it gave her a slightly better view of him, his dark hair and angular features and soft eyes with their round human pupils that made him look perpetually surprised or—she blushed a little. He was handsome from the waist up, well-built and cleaner than the human traders she sometimes met with. 

And his legs weren’t... _repulsive_. They were muscular enough at least, in their own way, though without the sinuous grace and sleek lines of a naga’s tail. 

_I’ve been without company too long_ , she thought with some amusement as she realized the direction her thoughts had taken. Well, this was also the time of life where she was meant to seek and take a mate, so it wasn’t so unnatural for her to be considering every angle, even if it was idle. She touched the tip of her long tongue to one fang and wondered what he would think of her, if he knew her. Probably whether or not she was beddable would be the last thing on his mind, she thought ruefully, idly scratching a chunk of bark off the tree with one long claw. 

Well, she could still think he was handsome, and if he _had_ been a naga, she would have certainly introduced herself a long time ago. 

* * *

“These are good, Lu,” Juleka said, as he lined the crystals up on the counter in front of her. 

“I found a new spot,” Luka confessed, shaking the last few out of his pouch onto the cloth she’d put out to catch them. She had one in her hand, examining it. “I think some kind of parasite infected the trees at the birch grove, and it needs all its energy to purge the infection, so I figured I’d go looking elsewhere. The new place is strong and someone tends to it, so the energy is more ordered there and easier to work with.” He shrugged as Juleka looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I know, I can’t explain it very well, it’s just how it feels to me.”

“You’re the expert,” Juleka murmured, picking up another crystal. “I think these might fetch a higher price than what we’ve been asking.”

Luka nodded. “Just pay me the usual for now, and if you are able to get more, we can work out the split then.” He smiled at Rose as she brought him a box of fresh, or freshly exhausted, crystals. “Thanks.” 

“Are you being safe, Luka?” Juleka asked suddenly, and both Luka and Rose looked at her.

“Of course,” Luka smiled, and reached over the counter to ruffle her hair. “I wouldn’t make you guys worry over me. It’d taint the spells.” 

Juleka batted his hands away and rolled her eyes, smoothing her long hair back. “It’s just, you said this place is tended. You’d better not be getting on the wrong side of a fey just for stupid power crystals.” 

Luka shook her head. “She’s not fey.”

Both girls raised their eyebrows. “She?” they said in unison, and Luka snorted.

“She’s never shown herself, so I don’t know for sure, but I can sense her lingering nearby. The song feels female to me, so I think of her as a she.” Luka shrugged. “I’ve never sensed anything angry or hostile from her. If she doesn’t like what I’m doing, I assume she’d let me know somehow.” 

Juleka rolled her eyes. “Just make sure you don’t accidentally propose to some smitten fairy or something.” 

Luka laughed, and tilted his head towards Rose, who had wandered back to the corner of the shop she rented from Juleka, and was puttering around arranging her wares while she hummed. She looked very much like a true pixie in that moment with the sun streaming through the windows, gleaming on her golden hair and shining through her pink gauze dress. “I think that’s more likely to happen to you than me.” 

Juleka flushed deeply, dipping her head forward so her hair covered her face. “Get out of here,” she muttered. Luka chuckled, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“Love you too, sis,” he winked, before taking his box and making a quick exit, lest Juleka decide to retaliate. 

* * *

This was a stupid idea, Marinette told herself, but she laid her small package on the rock and quickly hid in the trees. She needn’t have rushed; she was early and she had to frighten away more than one greedy crow before the man made his appearance. It was a stupid idea, and a stupid gift, Marinette scolded herself. It was stupid to give him a gift at all, but she could at least have come up with something better. She sharpened her claws on the dead log she leaned on in frustration as she fretted. It had been a whim, really, to save him a piece of her weekly baking, to leave an offering to thank him for his beautiful songs and his care for the magic of her meadow, but perhaps— 

He stepped out of the trees at the far end of the meadow, and Marinette gasped. It was too late now; she wouldn’t be able to retrieve the gift without being seen, and he was already heading straight towards the rock. 

Marinette slapped a hand over her mouth to keep back the agonized moan that wanted to burst out when he saw the gift and stilled, looking around. For a moment he stood and looked at it, and Marinette ducked her head into her arms. She couldn’t stop watching for long, though, so she peeked out again to see he had untied the package and was now sitting pensively looking at the little loaf of bread she had wrapped in the cloth. After a moment, he took his gittern from his back and prepared to play it. He began with that same tune he always used, like a keyword, she supposed, for the trance he entered to work his magic. Then he played a tune that resonated, not with the earth below her as usual, but against her own being. It made her gasp slightly. 

“Hello friend,” he said in his soft way, with a slight smile. “You seem to have left something behind today. I assume this is yours.” 

Marinette whined softly. How was she supposed to let him know that she’d meant it for him, in thanks for his music?

His head tilted slightly, and he smiled a little more. “A gift? For me? 

For a moment she was stunned. He wasn’t reading her mind, was he? Panic bubbled up.

“Don’t be frightened,” he said quickly. “I will stop if you wish. I only wanted to understand your intentions, and this way you don’t have to speak to me if you don’t want. I’m only…” he hesitated, forehead creasing slightly. “It’s hard to explain, but I can only sense your emotions.” He smiled slightly. “I’m an empath, not a mind reader, and I have to be in at least a light trance to get anything clear.” 

Her fear eased, at that. Empath...that meant feelings, right? She tried to concentrate on gratitude and welcome, and hoped he couldn’t feel her embarrassment too clearly.

His smile widened into something pleased and genuine, rather than the polite expression he’d mostly warm up until now. “Thank you, but...won’t you come out and share it with me?” 

_No!_ She thought desperately. _I’m not ready_. 

He rocked slightly on his feet. “Do I frighten you so much?” he asked, his tone slightly mournful. 

No, she didn’t fear him, not really. Only...she just wasn’t ready. 

“As you wish,” he sighed, and the touch of his power withdrew as his song faded. He sat down on her rock, and picked up the little loaf of bread and the cloth and set it on his lap. He ate it, slowly and deliberately. “It’s very good,” he said, and Marinette was glad he wasn’t ‘listening’ to her, or whatever he did that let him sense her when he played. She didn’t want him to hear the pleased squeal she was trying to muffle. 

He ate half of the bread, and then took a cloth of his own out of his pack and wrapped up the rest. He put it bread in his pack, and took out his usual handful of crystals, laying them in a line on the ground as he always did. He picked up her cloth, shook the crumbs off of it, and folded it neatly before setting it out of his way. Then he took his usual place, lounging on her sunning rock almost like one of her own kind, and began to play. 

Marinette smiled, and her tight coils relaxed. She circled into a looser, more comfortable arrangement, and rested her arms on her body, picking idly at a bit of shed skin clinging to her pink scales and trying to contain her smile. 

To her delight, he stayed that day even beyond the time it took him to fill his crystals, and began playing something she’d never heard before. Not magic, she realized. It didn’t have the... _resonance_ of the music he played to channel his magic, but it was lovely anyway. The thought that he was playing now solely for her pleasure brought a flush to her cheeks. She smiled, and felt the pressure of her fangs on her lower lip. Her smile dimmed slightly, as she brought a hand to cover her mouth. What kind of thoughts was she entertaining, anyway? He’d certainly be terrified if she showed herself to him, no matter how calm and accepting he seemed now. He surely had to know she wasn’t human or outright fey, but that still left many possibilities, quite a few less dangerous than she. He was soft and unarmored and she had claws and fangs and could easily crush the life out of him without using either. And anyway, what kind of reasoning was _he seemed nice_ for revealing herself unnecessarily to a human—a human _mage_ at that—this close to her lair? 

Not that she had any specific fears, really, it just...seemed unwise. There wasn’t any particular animosity between the two species, it was just that generally humans were annoying and more trouble than they were worth. 

No, better to keep things like this.

But...if he would play for her after a simple loaf of bread, then perhaps she ought to leave more offerings, and see if he would play more of his own music for her. Just...little things, and maybe not every time, but…she would try it, she decided. Her simple little offering clearly made him happy, and she liked that he was happy. She wanted him to keep coming back.

* * *

Luka was growing more and more intrigued about his mysterious host. She—he was growing more certain it was a she, if her species recognized gender at all—was the keeper of this little meadow, he was sure, but she seemed unbothered by his intrusion, and even grateful for his presence. 

Luka, in turn, was grateful, for of all the places he visited regularly this one was by far the most pleasant to spend time in and the easiest to draw from. It was tempting to come more often, but he didn’t want to overstrain the place or overstep his welcome with his shy observer. 

He was a little embarrassed by the gifts she left him, because to his mind if anyone owed anything, it was _he_ that owed _her_ for not driving him out of her territory, but he was also grateful and flattered that she enjoyed his music so much. He tried to respect her privacy and her desire to remain anonymous, but it was growing harder by the day, his awareness of her song growing as they spent more time together—if you could call it that. 

He wanted so much to meet her, but Luka had no choice but to be patient and wait for her to decide she wanted to meet him. 

* * *

He was early. Marinette had to dive into the trees when she sensed him coming. She could move quicker than sight when she had to, despite her size, and so she made it under cover before he could catch sight of her. Panting slightly from the fright, Marinette leaned on a tree to watch him, peeping through the leaves.

Something about the way he strode into the meadow bothered her. There was a...tightness about him she couldn’t quite describe, and while he didn’t _stomp_ , he was not stepping as lightly as she was accustomed to seeing. 

He seemed restless, too. He didn’t sit on her rock and play. He picked up the little cake she had left for him, but merely set it down again, dropped his pack and his instrument in a pile next to the rock, and walked restlessly around the meadow.

Marinette drew back in alarm when he passed close to the trees concealing her, but he passed her without even looking in her direction, clearly agitated. Frowning, Marinette followed him at a safe distance, keeping hidden in the trees. The minstrel mage passed the ring of trees that marked the edge of her meadow and over to the cliff beyond, where he stood, looking pensively out over the forest below. 

He shouldn’t walk so close to the cliff, Marinette fretted as she watched from the edge of the trees. It was hard to tell from this side but that overhang wasn’t as sturdy as it looked, and it had rained only a few days ago— 

Even as she thought it, she felt the vibration in the earth, and heard the grinding of earth and loose rocks.

She didn’t even think. She just _moved._

* * *

It all happened so fast that it was over before Luka understood what was happening. There was a rumble and a rush and he was falling, and then excruciating pain in his arm that tore a scream of agony from his throat. 

There was a rush of earth past him, below him, and his legs were dangling in midair; _he was_ dangling, hanging only by the arm that hurt so very, very much. Luka looked up—and for a moment he forgot everything else in his shock. Everything else that happened was a blur, but he would remember the face above him for the rest of his life, he was sure. A woman’s face, pale with fear, fangs peeking from parted lips and blue, slit-pupiled eyes wide and staring. Midnight blue hair tumbled forward over strong shoulders, and one clawed hand gripped the edge of the cliff. 

The other, he realized, was the source of the pain in his arm. Understanding came to him; the cliff had given way beneath him and this woman—creature— _being_ had stopped him from falling, but her long claws had plunged into his wrist. Blood streamed down his arm and dripped on the rocks below. Luka gasped as he looked down. His good hand scrabbled at the cliffside, but _he_ had no claws to grip with, and his fingers crumbled the earth and slid off the rock where he grabbed at it. He kicked his feet, but that made his savior yelp, increased the pain in his arm, and he didn’t find any purchase, so he stilled, gasping and dizzy from the pain. 

Luka cried out in pain and surprise when the grip on his wrist tightened, but he bit down on it as he looked back up. Above him, his rescuer shifted her body a little more, bracing her free arm on an intact part of the cliff, and then heaved, pulling back from the cliff edge and dragging Luka along with her.

It hurt—oh, it hurt, so much that his vision went black for a moment—but Luka was enough in possession of his senses now to realize that he was dangling over a drop that would surely kill him, so he muffled his cries as best he could, and tried not to thrash too much. 

It felt like an eternity before she pulled him up high enough that he could see over the cliff and grab (uselessly) at the grassy top. He almost slipped off again in surprise when he got a full look at his savior. It had been obvious even in his confused state that she was not human, but he was unprepared to find that somewhere around her waist, her human torso tapered into the body of a gigantic serpent. _Naga_ , some part of his brain supplied. _No, female, so...nagi._

She pulled him up a little farther, and when his shoulders had cleared the top of the cliff, she curled a loop of her tail—body? Around in front of him. “Hold on to me,” she told him, indicating that he should wrap his arms around her serpent body. He did so, clumsily and not very effectively with his wounded arm, but it was enough to keep him secure while she leaned down over the cliff edge again and grabbed his belt on either side of his waist with both hands, using it to haul him the rest of the way over the cliff.

 _That_ was not particularly comfortable either, but preferable to more claws in his flesh, and regardless, he was back on solid ground. He crawled on his elbows a little father from the cliff edge and collapsed, panting. After a moment he rolled on his side to look at the nagi. 

She was panting too, and her slit pupils had so blown wide they were almost round in her frightened face. Her expression was stricken as she stared at his blood on her hand, painting the long claws that had pierced his flesh. 

Luka rolled over and got to his knees. It made him dizzy—he’d probably lost a lot of blood. He put his undamaged hand quickly over the wound and began to sing, his voice quick and tight with pain but true. The undamaged hand glowed, and so did the wound. His savior shifted beside him, but Luka had no attention to spare for anything but the healing; it was not a magic that came easily to him, and it was difficult enough to concentrate past the pain and the fear of losing the use of his hand. 

It took longer than it would have taken his sister, but he was able to complete the healing, and when he flexed his hand he found that he had full motion and sensation. He still felt weak and shaky with blood loss and reaction, but all of that would pass. Luka breathed a sigh of relief and turned a smile up at the being who had saved his life. 

“Thank you,” he said warmly. 

She made a distressed sound, still holding her bloodstained hand out as if it didn’t belong to her. 

Luka wrapped his now-healed but still bloody fingers gently around hers. “A broken neck would have been much harder to fix,” he told her gently. “And so I thank you. I had rather lose the use of my hand than my life.” He smiled, tilting his head a little to look up into her face. “And as I have lost neither, there is no need for guilt or grief.” He unhooked his waterskin from his belt, and pulled out the stopper with his teeth. He took her hand again and poured the water over it, rinsing away his blood from both their hands. He would have rinsed her scales too where he had clung to her, but he feared that might be offensive, so he offered her the skin and let her do it herself. 

Some of the tension left her, and she sat back a little, sinking slightly onto her...tail-body. Luka tried not to let his glance become a stare. “Forgive me,” he said, tearing his eyes away and forcing them back up to hers, snake-slitted but so very, very blue. “I’ve never met a nagi before, and I don’t know your customs, so I hope it isn’t very rude to ask your name?” 

She smiled a little, the hint of fangs peeping from between her lips before she caught herself and tightened the smile to hide them. “It is customary to give yours first, since this is my home,” she said, and Luka was vaguely surprised to hear only a hint of hissing on the sibilants. _Prejudice_ , he scolded himself. 

“I do it gladly. My name is Luka.” He put a hand over his heart and bowed slightly. 

Her hand fluttered uncertainly to her chest, and she did the same, dipping slightly awkwardly as she swayed forward on her serpent half rather than bending at the waist as he had. “I am Marinette,” she told him, and then she blushed—a very human reaction that gave Luka an odd little thrill. “I have been listening to your music.” 

“Ah,” Luka nodded in understanding. “It is your song I have been hearing, coming to visit me,” he grinned, and Marinette’s blush deepened. Her tail shifted to coil beneath her, and he glanced down without meaning to, but caught himself quickly. Even so, something about motion spoke of discomfort, and he thought back to the fluctuations in her song when he’d spoken to her in the past. Without the trance he heard only faint echoes of her melody, but he thought he was embarrassing her. “I’m very happy to finally meet you. Thank you for the gifts.” 

Marinette looked away, the fingers of her clawed hands playing nervously across the scales of her tail like a maiden might twist her hands in her lap. “I only wanted to thank you, for your music. It’s...beautiful. I’ve loved hearing you play.”

“I’ve enjoyed having the company,” he told her honestly, and smiled at her look of surprise. “I always play better with an audience, even a shy one.” 

Marinette blushed and covered her face with her hands. Luka found himself reaching to touch her before he thought the better of it. Her arm felt very solid under his hand, but also very human. “Don’t be embarrassed. I truly did enjoy your presence, and I’m not offended that you chose to stay secret. The world is not a safe place, and you didn’t know me.”

“I did know you,” she said quickly, peeking out from her fingers—a sweet, childlike gesture, he would have thought it, though those deadly sharp claws were at odds with the image. “At least, I felt like I did, eventually. I haven’t been afraid of you for a long time.” 

“I shouldn’t think you’d be frightened of much,” Luka teased, tugging a hand away from her face and turning it so her claws shone in the light. “You’re very strong, for which I’m extremely grateful.” He winked at her, and she giggled. 

“You shouldn’t have gone so close to the cliff, especially if it’s rained recently,” she admonished, rising up slightly as her tail uncoiled from beneath her. Before he could blink it shot out like a whip, striking the edge of the cliff. A chunk of earth crumbled beneath the blow and he could hear the rocks rattle down the other side. “It’s not safe. It erodes underneath when the storms come, and then the edge is unstable.” She pointed at the pale purple flowers growing in the grass. “You shouldn’t go beyond where the asters grow.” 

Luka saw now, what he hadn’t before, that they formed a boundary that followed the curve of the cliff, but left a good size border. “I consider myself warned for the future,” Luka observed, shivering a little. Marnette moved closer to him, a hand hovering near his cheek.

“You’re so pale,” she fretted.

Luka sighed, and tried to stand. He swayed and Marinette had to catch him—gently, this time, keeping her claws from his skin. He smiled gratefully at her. Clearly he was going to have to do something about the blood loss, but he couldn’t focus unaided any longer. “I need my gittern,” he told her, and she slipped under his arm, pressing against his side. She raised her body up to a height comfortable for him, and then helped him back towards the meadow.

They found his gittern and pack where he’d left it. Marinette helped him sit on the rock and recline against it as he usually did. She wound around the rock, and hovered over him, pressing his instrument into his hands, her expression still worried. 

“I need to deep trance,” he told her, as he set shaking fingers to the strings and took up the plectrum. “I can sense you in trance as I did before, but I won’t have attention to speak.” He smiled weakly. “Please forgive my rudeness.” He glanced at her through only half-open lids.

Marinette nodded slowly. “Do as you must,” she said, sinking back a little and folding her hands across the bend in her tail that would have been a human lap. “I want you to be well. I want to be sure I haven’t harmed you badly.” 

Luka chuckled. “Lady, you saved my life.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to look into hers. “And whatever harm I have taken from it, I consider it a price well paid to have met you at last.” 

Marinette blushed like any human maid, and Luka smiled before settling his head back and strumming the tune that triggered his trance. He fell into the song of the earth then, drawing the power from it that he needed to speed his body’s recovery. 

After a time, he felt the rich tones of Marinette’s presence withdraw, and mourned their loss, but he wasn’t recovered enough to break trance to try and call her back. He was almost finished when her music returned, and he found it more beautiful than ever now that he had the proper context for it. 

When he opened his eyes at last, she was there, resting in a nest of loose coils on the grass near him, and pink tinted her cheeks again when he smiled at her. He sat up slowly, setting the gittern aside, breathing through the slight dizziness he felt once he was upright. It cleared quickly, to his relief. 

“I brought food,” Marinette said a little uncertainly. “I thought you might need it, after...that.” 

“I do,” Luka smiled. “Will you join me this time?” 

She gave a tiny nod and busied herself with the basket sitting next to her, so that he only saw the corner of her smile. Luka had been trying desperately to be polite but now that she was distracted he couldn’t help satisfying his curiosity. Her serpent half, sleek and muscular, was a deep pink, almost red, with darker, splotchy spots down her body. The scales reached to her human waist, and then became patchy as they gave way to human skin—he couldn’t see quite how far up the scales continued, since she wore a vest over her human torso, covering very human curves that he quickly averted his eyes from, not wanting to be caught staring at that any more than at her tail. The vest was pretty, a soft grey edged with pink, laced up the front rather than the back as he was accustomed to seeing on women’s clothes. It was embroidered as prettily as any maiden’s gown, with little flowers along the bottom hems and vines twisting up the front, and fitted very well, moving with her as she bent and swayed in ways that were definitely _not_ human as she arranged a small picnic before him. 

He slid off the stone to sit on the grass instead, though he still leaned back against it. His weakness now was only from the exertion of healing himself, at least; once he had eaten and rested he should be able to stand on his own two feet. 

“...was something wrong?” Marinette asked suddenly, and Luka looked up at her in slight surprise. “When you went to the cliff...you seemed like something was bothering you,” she clarified.

“Oh, that.” Luka chuckled, taking another bite of his honeyed bread before he answered. “I was upset,” he admitted, a slight blush coloring his own cheeks, “but, ah...after the events of this morning, I’m finding my perspective has been altered a bit.” He grinned at her, and she giggled. “Now it hardly seems worth talking about. I’d much rather hear about you. You made this place?” He gestured at the meadow garden. “It’s beautiful, and the care you put into it shows.” 

“Thank you,” Marinette said, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear—her ear was pointed, he realized, and told himself not to stare. “Eat,” she said, nudging a plate to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t have anything fresh, but…anyway, you should eat.” 

Luka tucked in to the smoked meat and bread gratefully, needing the fuel. Marinette only nibbled a piece of bread, watching him with quick glances. Luka’s subconscious had apparently been at work while he was in trance, and all the observations, all of the things he had sensed from her over the past few months, fell into place, and even though she was clearly not quite comfortable being in the open with him yet, she didn’t feel at all like a stranger. 

By the time he felt able to attempt the trip home, the sun was setting. No sooner had he gotten to his feet, though, than Marinette had risen up beside him and taken his arm in a careful grip. 

“I’m coming with you,” she said decisively. 

“That’s not necessary,” Luka told her, frowning. “I can make it on my own. You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t want you to risk yourself.

Marinette snorted. “There is nothing in this forest I need fear. You, on the other hand, are screaming _prey_ right now.”

Luka winced. “I can protect myself.”

“If I am with you, you won’t have to,” Marinette said firmly. “Nothing in this forest will come near you while I am with you. There’s no point in arguing, because you can’t stop me, anyway.” 

Luka had to admit that was true, so he might as well be gracious about it. “Thank you,” he told her, and they started off on their journey.

Luka had good reason to be grateful by the time they reached the edge of the forest. He might have made it home without Marinette but it would have taken him a long time. The slightest obstacle was too much for him and without her support he would have had to stop and rest more often than he did. 

At the edge of the forest, though, he begged her to turn back. It was an easy walk from here, and not so great a distance, and knowing how careful she was, he didn’t want her to reveal herself without need. 

Marinette lost a bit of her bravado as she looked toward the human settlement in the distance, and reluctantly agreed. 

“It may be longer than usual before I can come again,” Luka admitted with a tired smile. “That is, if I would be welcome.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows slightly. “You never asked before,” she chided, but she didn’t sound very stern, and she didn’t let go of his arm.

“I didn’t know you before,” Luka reminded her. “I might push the goodwill of a stranger, but I would never trespass on the privacy of a friend.” 

Marinette looked away for a moment, and then laid her other hand on his arm. “A friend is never unwelcome,” she said at last, meeting his eyes, and when he smiled, she smiled back. 

“Then I will come as soon as I am able,” he said, laying his hand over hers. “Thank you for everything, Marinette.” He lifted her clawed hand carefully and kissed her knuckles lightly. 

She drew her hands back slowly and wrapped her arms around herself. “Be safe, Luka.” She turned quickly and disappeared back into the forest. Luka stood a moment longer, and then sighed, turning to make his own way home, where he was duly fussed over and scolded by his family for his late return and weakened state. 

At his request, the next day Juleka brought home every book she could find that mentioned nagas at all. 

* * *

She checked the meadow every day, even though he had said it would be some time before he could come again. She even started through the forest, more than once, to go and check on him herself. That was silly, though, since all she would have been able to do was hover at the edge of the forest, and the only way she would see him would be if he was coming to her anyway.

Not to her. He wasn’t coming to _her_ , but to _this place_ , but those two things now essentially meant the same thing, now that he knew of her. She settled for spending as much time in her meadow as possible, which wasn’t such a change from her usual routine anyway. Her lair was cozy but her meadow was the best place for sun and fresh air and the inspiration of nature’s beauty. 

Somehow, though, she got a lot less done than usual, unaware how often she interrupted her work to look in the direction that he would come, or to sigh and try to figure out how many days would reasonably pass before he would return.

* * *

Luka made his way to the meadow the first day that Juleka let him out of the house. Fully recovered now, he made his way to the meadow with none of the woolgathering and leisurely strolling that he usually engaged in. 

He could see her even before he stepped out of the trees, draped over the large couchlike stone in such a natural way that he couldn’t fathom how he hadn’t guessed her nature before this. Of course the rock was worn smooth, scraped daily by her scales, and wasn’t she beautiful, gleaming in the sun. She was half-asleep, fangs peeping through her lips as she smiled at some idle, sleepy thought. 

Luka thought to find a seat on the grass and perhaps play something soft, but Marinette woke before he had taken many steps into the meadow. 

“Oh,” she said, raising herself with a close-lipped smile. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was waiting for you, and the sun felt so good.” She stretched luxuriantly, and he watched in fascination the rippling motion that traveled the length of her body. 

Then what she said clicked in his mind. “You were waiting for me?” She hadn’t known when he would come. _He_ hadn’t known, since he had wanted to come two days ago and Juleka threatened to tie him to his bed if he even _hinted_ at doing any such thing. Surely she didn’t mean...she had been waiting for him all this time?

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, and she blushed, and Luka had the distinct impression that she hadn’t intended to admit that. “Oh, well,” she waved her hand as if it meant nothing, and slid down from the stone to slither towards him. “You know I’m here, and now you know what I am, so…” She shrugged those strong shoulders, coiling her body beneath her. “It seemed silly to hide any longer. Unless you’d rather I leave you to concentrate.” 

That wasn’t really an answer, but Luka let it go. “I would hardly kick you out of your own garden,” he laughed, indicating the meadow with a wave of his hand. “If you don’t mind my presence, then I would be glad for your company.” 

“I’m glad to see you’re well,” she said, looking him over critically. 

“Thanks to you, and my mother-hen of a sister,” Luka chuckled. “Who kept me in bed at least two days longer than I wanted to be, despite complaining that I was ruining her business for the month by lounging in bed instead of working.” He grinned at her, leaning in slightly. “I’m afraid I may have to stay a little longer than usual today to make up for it.” 

The way her face lit up set his heart racing, before she composed herself and said, “Well, then I had best not keep you any longer.” She glided over to a basket under a nearby tree and took what looked like an embroidery hoop out of it, before looking back at him and raising her eyebrows. 

Chuckling, Luka went to the rock she had abandoned and readied himself as usual. Except now his seat was warmed from her body resting there, and he could look across the meadow at Marinette somehow working her embroidery despite her claws, and she could look up and meet his gaze.

And when he sank into the song, hers was there alongside it, vibrant and beautiful, still shy, but beautiful in its happiness. It seemed to resonate with his own, and it took effort not to follow it, to touch it and sense all that she was feeling.

Luka focused his mind on his work as best he could, and whenever paused to switch the crystals and opened his eyes, Marinette was there, as lovely as her melody, strong and fearsome, ten feet of muscle and grace that took his breath away, sweetly working on her own strangely domestic projects. When she sensed his eyes on her, she looked up to meet them with a small smile. 

When he finished his work, he played for her as had become his habit, though it was growing late and he would need to leave soon. Marinette put down her work and came to circle the stone where he sat, propping her chin on her arms as she looked up at him. 

At last, Luka had to pack up his things with a sigh and an apologetic smile. 

“You will come again?” she asked casually. 

“With your permission,” he replied, and she snorted.

“You always have that,” she said, and then blushed, ducking her head beneath her arms.

“Marinette,” he said, and she took her head from her arms, sitting up and lifting her body a little to look at him. “Will you smile at me?” he asked, impulsively. “For real?” 

Marinette put a hand over her mouth, looking distressed, and Luka shook his head slightly, smiling fondly. “Don’t hide who you are, especially if you do it for my comfort,” he told her gently. “I’m not frightened of you, no matter how fearsome your strength or your claws—or your fangs. You are lovely as it is, and I assure your smile will not make me think you less so.”

That crimson shade he was quickly coming to love spread over her cheeks, and though she was clearly fighting it, she did smile fully at him, for just a moment, before looking down at her hands. 

Impulsively, Luka put his fingers under her chin and lifted it back up to look at him, but he quickly drew his hand back, afraid he had overstepped. “Much better,” he said as casually as he could manage, sitting back, his stomach suddenly full of butterflies.

He got another glimpse of Marinette’s full, fanged smile, before she looked away shyly. Luka sighed to himself.

 _Oh, I’m in trouble_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: He's always in trouble. 
> 
> Love to Verfound and MotherWoof, and you should check out [Winters](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059803) and [Heart Scales](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22663690) respectively. Part of the challenge of this story was making it different from theirs, but since we all swap ideas (and since Ver and I both did this as gifts for Bloody and we know what she likes) there's bound to be some similarities and even a couple of intentional (mostly teasing) references. I assure you one or both of them will get me back.


End file.
